Don't Call me Dragnet
by reenactor43
Summary: A car bomb nearly kills a Marine and an Air Force Pararescue Jumper. The matter draws a U.S. Marshal into a bigger threat against former colleagues, working alongside the NCIS team and other federal investigators.


As we neared her car, I could tell Ybarra and I had a problem. I caught her arm as I stopped. She shot me an inquisitive look, which wasn't assuaged by my simple statement of "Stay here." I jogged across the street to where her car was parked, then lowered myself to the pavement, allowing me to see the undercarriage. What I saw confirmed my suspicions: a blinking red light winking ominously. I levered myself up then jogged back across where she was watching with concern.

"What is it? Oil leak?"

"Not quite."

"Gas leak?"

"Not quite. Is there anything in there that you absolutely would unable to replace easily?"

"Nope. What's going on?"

"What's going on is you're going to call the cops and get them to evacuate the area."

I started to move, but she stopped me by grabbing my arm.

"Ulysses, if you don't tell me what the living hell is going on right now, I'll run you over with your helicopter."

"Well, when you put it so nicely, how can I refuse?"

"Ulysses..."

"There's really no way of saying this nicely, so I'll just put it bluntly. There's a bomb underneath your car."

"That's not funny."

My response was me at my classic deadpan best.

"Good, 'cause I wasn't joking. Go see for yourself. Just be careful and don't bump anything."

She turned a shade of pale that I didn't know her Mexican lineage allowed her to reach.

"Okay, there's a bomb under my car."

I am convinced there is a cosmic deity with a sick sense of humor. Just as she reached into her bag for her phone, all hell broke loose.

WHA-BOOM!

I took us both to the ground, making sure to cover her with my body. When I was sure that no debris would find its way into either one of us, I grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet.

"You alright darlin'?"

She didn't answer me; I didn't blame her. Hell, I wasn't even sure she had heard me. I just stared into the flames, listening to the crackle. We stood there for a moment, then gently nudged her shoulder.

"Sweetheart?"

"Hmm?" She was still watching the flames lick at the air.

"We should probably back up. Just in case."

"In case of what?"

"In case that thing's not quite done going ka-blooey." I pulled her back a few more feet. I guided her over to the sidewalk, keeping my arm wrapped around her. Frantic shouting filled the air around us, along with running footsteps.

As the first sirens came within earshot, I took out my phone and began to dial. I knew we would need backup. Furthermore, I knew just who to ask.

—

Across town, it was a surprisingly uneventful day at NCIS Headquarters. Reports were filed, leads were followed up on, coffee runs were made. The only thing that seemed out of place was the fact that a man with a U.S. Marshal's badge was leading a second individual out of the elevator in handcuffs.

The man was tall, standing 6'3", muscular, and neatly dressed, with a tan jacket over a short-sleeved buttoned shirt, black jeans, and black square-toed western boots tucked into his pant legs. His black hair was kept short and neatly tapered, and his Van Dyke beard kept groomed. His eyes, a curious mixture of gray and green, were concealed temporarily behind a pair of silver-framed aviators, which he took off and tucked into his chest pocket. To complete his ensemble, the man wore a black Stetson Stratoliner fedora. This man was Audie MacLeod, who was currently getting an earful from the smaller man he had by the arm.

"Yo man, you never told me why you was taking me to the Feds man. That ain't cool, yo."

"Couple pro tips for you, 'yo.' One: If you're going to steal a car, make sure you don't steal one belonging to a Naval aviator. Two: You are the size of a shrimp and whiter than Dracula. Stop talking like a 90's rap song. It makes you sound even more like an idiot."

Audie paused for a moment, taking a look around at the bullpen. He noticed three agents at their desks and strode their way, pulling his charge along. He stopped before a dark-haired woman regarding them both curiously.

"Excuse me. Looking for Special Agent Jacobs."

"And you are?"

"Deputy U.S. Marshal Audie MacLeod. Got a car thief she's been looking for."

Audie withdrew his identification with his free hand and presented it for inspection. The woman looked at it carefully before handing it back and introducing herself.

"Special Agent Ziva David. I believe the last time I saw Agent Jacobs was in the break room."

"Where exactly might I find that?"

A voice behind Audie answered.

"I'll take you."

Audie turned to see a handsome brown-haired, green-eyed man standing. He stuck out his hand and Audie took it.

"Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo. Over here is Special Agent McGee. Right this way." Audie, after putting his free hand to the brim of his hat as a greeting to McGee, followed DiNozzo to the break room, handed his prisoner off to Agent Jacobs, then wound his way back to the bullpen, talking shop along the way.

"So that guy stole a car from a Naval aviator and lived to tell about it?"

"To be fair, the Lieutenant didn't really have much of a say in the matter. From what I understand, she's in the middle of the Pacific on deployment right now."

"That explains a lot. What'd he steal anyway?"

"1963 Corvette convertible. Left his prints all over the garage. Alarm company alerted the cops, but he was long gone by the time they showed up."

"He at least has good taste in what he steals. How'd he wind up in your custody?"

"He was staying in an apartment we hit looking for somebody else. Corvette was parked out back. We'll get it to you guys once we're done processing it. He wouldn't give us a name and didn't have ID, so we detained him pending a fingerprint search. The prints came up flagged by Agent Jacobs, and the rest is history."

"You have to love stupidity."

"It does keep guys like me in business."

"What do guys like you do for the Marshals?"

"Warrants. I get handed a fugitive, run them down, lock them up, then move to the next one." Audie was interrupted by his cell ringing as a gray-haired man rounded the corner, coffee in hand.

"MacLeod."

"Hey, Dragnet. How's the prisoner transfer going?"

"Just handed him off, Escobar. About to head back. Got another one already?"

"Nope. Guy called looking for you, said he served with you. Told him you were out of the office. He stated he needed to speak with you urgently."

"He say what about?"

"He claimed he would rather discuss it face to face. I'm sending you the number."

"Thanks. One last thing. Did he give a name?"

"As a matter of fact, he did. How does somebody wind up with the name Kingfisher anyway?" Audie chuckled.

"He's Cherokee. I'll give him a call once I get out of the building. See you back at the office."

Audie pressed the button for the elevator and stepped inside as it opened. He noticed the three agents he had interacted with moving towards the elevator bay, so he placed his hand on the doorframe to keep it open long enough for them to enter with a fourth agent he had not met. The fourth agent, a steely-eyed man with close-cropped gray hair turned to him. Audie recognized him as the agent rounding the corner a few moments earlier.

"Appreciate it."

"No problem. You catch a case?" The man nodded.

"Somebody blew up a Marine's car."

"Car bomb?" Audie made a face. "Ballsy."

"You got much experience with car bombs?"

"Let's just say I am well versed in the behaviors of various explosive compounds, and leave it at that."

The elevator came to a stop and the car emptied as the occupants exited. Audie separated from the others and ambled to his car, making a call as he walked.

—

I was leaning against a Metro PD cruiser with my arms folded across my chest when I heard my phone ring. I slid it out of my pocket and put to my ear.

"Ulysses Kingfisher's phone. Where may I direct your call?"

"Kingfisher, it's me. What's this urgent matter that has arisen, my friend?"

"Somebody did their damnedest to turn Mag's car into a satellite."

"What's the damage?"

"The car's done for, obviously. Some of the more self-important shitheads around here might march up to one the uniform guys and demand that someone be locked up for making all the racket."

I blew out a breath. Audie was a brother to me, someone I didn't hold back from. Mag was another one of those people, albeit for entirely different reasons.

"I won't lie to you, Audie. It was close to being all over for both of us."

"Where are you now?"

"I would tell you to follow the sirens, but this is DC. Sirens are practically the official city song." I heard Audie chuckle.

"Ain't that the truth. Well, NCIS received the call out; their point team just left. Send me the address and I'll see you there.

"Why were you at NCIS?"

"Tell you when I get there."

It was my turn to chuckle. I lapsed into silence watching the fire crew hosing down what was left of the car.

"Something on your mind brother?"

"Right now I'm hoping that this wasn't the start of something bigger."

"Bigger how?"

"Like maybe I was the target, and maybe I'm not the only one."

"Okay, I'll play along. Why you?"

"Well, if I knew that, I'd also probably know who did it."

"True. I'll see you shortly." The line disconnected in my ear and I returned the phone to my pocket after sending Audie the location.

—

Audie hung up with his former squadron mate's words running laps in his brain. He slipped his aviators out of his chest pocket and put them on as he prepared to get into his car. His phone chimed with the address of the bombing, which he input into the dash mounted GPS.

As the digitized voice directed him through the streets, he began calling other former colleagues. He focused his attention on those he knew had also seen fit to end their tours of duty, as he felt those still serving as active-duty personnel would be too busy. He left voicemails as needed, simply stating, "This is Audie MacLeod. Call me back." He dialed the final number as he arrived at his destination. He parked and cut off his engine.

The phone to which the final call was registered was, at the time of the call, sealed in an evidence bag labeled 'Personal Effects'. As the bag was opened and its contents spilled onto a table surface, the screen lit up and its ringtone shrilly broke the silence. A gloved hand took hold of the phone and answered.

"Hello?" Audie knew the voice did not belong to the man he was trying to reach and instinctively knew that Kingfisher had been onto something. He remained silent as he tried to formulate his words.

"Hello? Who is this? Are you there?" Audie stared forward, his free hand tightening its grip on the steering wheel. He removed the phone from his ear and hung up. He removed the aviators then ran a hand tiredly over his face.

He got out of his car and approached a line of caution tape guarded by a MPDC patrolman who lifted the tape for him to duck under after checking his credentials. He made a painstakingly careful visual sweep of the scene, documenting everything he could. Once he was satisfied, he made his way over to the familiar pair camped out on the tailgate of an ambulance. He leaned casually against the back of the ambulance and folded his arms while keeping his gaze forward and level.

"You weren't kidding when you said they tried to put that thing into orbit. You two alright?"

"For the most part. So what were you doing at NCIS?"

"Wound up finding a car thief they wanted." He turned to Kingfisher.

"You might be on to something." Kingfisher sighed and dropped his head.

"How many?"

"One for now. Jeffries. The others, not sure. Haven't heard back."

"Shit."

"Right about what?" Kingfisher turned to Ybarra and took her hand.

"I mentioned to Audie that I couldn't shake the feeling that what happened was part of, it maybe the beginning of, something bigger. Now it seems I was right." Their further conversation was interrupted by the arrival of a four door Dodge. Audie watched the NCIS agents enter the crime scene.

"Deputy Marshal MacLeod." He tipped his hat brim in greeting.

"Special Agents David, DiNozzo, and McGee. Fancy running into you here." He turned to the fourth, the grey-haired agent who scrutinized him closely.

"I never got the chance to introduce myself earlier. MacLeod."

"Gibbs. Mind telling us why you're here?"

"Because somebody blew up a Marine's car."

"Didn't know the Marshals had an interest in this."

"They don't, at least not yet. I do. Your intended victims are Gunnery Sergeant Magdalena Ybarra and Senior Airman Ulysses Kingfisher. Gunny Ybarra is currently assigned to Marine Corps Base Quantico as a sniper instructor. Kingfisher's on active-duty status with the 38th Rescue Squadron of the 347th Rescue Group of Air Combat Command. Any idea whether Air Force OSI has been notified? Also, Army CID's gonna want a piece of this."

"How so?" Audie gave a slight head tilt to the seated pair.

"Kingfisher's the son of a retired MP." DiNozzo broke in with a question of his own.

"How exactly do you know all this?" Audie slid off his jacket and held it in the crook of his arm while sliding his sleeve up to fully reveal the tattoo on his upper arm depicting the Air Force Pararescue emblem.

"Retired Captain Audie MacLeod, Air Force Pararescue. These things we do."

"So others may live." Kingfisher finished the motto of the PJ's solemnly.

"McGee, talk to Metro. Co-ordinate with CID and OSI. DiNozzo-"

"Start canvassing witnesses. On it boss."

"And I shall begin photographing the remains of the vehicle." Ziva strode off without another word.

"One more thing you should know. Kingfisher might have been the primary target."

"Why do you figure that?"

"His instincts were telling him that this might be the opening move of something bigger, so I reached out to other guys who were in the squadron with the both of us. Left a few voicemails, but one call went through. The number belonged to Technical Sergeant Kyle Jeffries. He was not the person who picked up the phone, nor was it a family member."

"So you think whoever did it might have something against your squadron?"

"Maybe." Audie's cell rang from his jeans pocket.

"Excuse me." He stepped away from the ambulance and answered the phone."

"MacLeod."

"Dragnet, where are you?"

"Navy Yard neighborhood, downtown DC. What's up Escobar?"

"I should ask you the same thing. Two suits from OSI are here to talk to you. Is something going on that I should know about?"

"If only I knew. I'll be back at headquarters shortly." He ended the call and turned back to Kingfisher and Ybarra.

"I'd stay longer, but I got to go. Call me in a bit."

"You got it."


End file.
